


Everybody Have Fun Tonight

by DovahDoes



Series: A Little Amenadan AU [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: (we'll pick that up in a later fic I promise), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Awkwardness, Humor, Lucifer is mildly offended Dan and his brother are dating, M/M, Maze trolls, Or at least an, also we have background/hinted at Maze/Linda, as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DovahDoes/pseuds/DovahDoes
Summary: “Nah, dude!  It’s all good.  Just gimme’ the deets on your mystery guy so I can fangirl over an adorable, happy couple, here, kay?  I mean, if I can’t jump that hot Amenadiel guy’s bones, I’ve gotta get my kicks somehow, right?”Ella worriedly peers up at the frozen detective who had momentarily gone pale and then started flushing an almost worrying shade of pink.“Woah!  Are you okay?  All I did was mention…” she trails off, quietly, before her mouth rounds in surprise.  “No way! Oh my God—really?”*  *  *Our two lovable goobers plan a first date, go on it, and have a great time.  In the process of all of that, though, they manage to out themselves as a couple to both EllaandLucifer, to varying reactions.And rest assured, Maze is Here For It™ and enjoying every last minute, as usual.





	Everybody Have Fun Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> (The cavalcade of fic titles based on 80s' song lyrics rolls on.)
> 
> For once, I wrote something in this fandom during regular human hours and not the damned witching hour while sleep-deprived. #shockingiknow  
> *
> 
> This takes place a week after [Wake Me Up (Before You Go Go)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11159949).

A lot of relationships in Detective Dan Espinoza’s life have changed in the past couple of years, with perhaps the most obvious being his separation from Chloe.  Mazikeen would likely argue that his strange friendship with her, a dangerous (literal) she-demon would take the top spot for biggest change in dynamics.  It’s also likely that both Linda _and_ Amenadiel would vote for his whirlwind roman—  _relationship—_ with the aforementioned angel objectively being the biggest development in his life.

 

As far as _he’s_ concerned, though, the almost complete 180 of the dynamic between himself and one Lucifer Morningstar is _easily_ the greatest turnaround out of them all.  After all, in most other cases, there had been either a neutral opinion of one another before ever meeting, whereas there had been immediate enmity between both he and the Devil from the start, which had only started to really turn around in the last calendar year or so.

 

With that blossoming sense of friendly— almost brotherly— comradery in mind, Dan had grudgingly decided that if ever there was a time to ask for Lucifer’s help, this would be it.

 

Except that as the affluent entrepreneur brings out catalog after catalog of exorbitantly expensive-looking designer suits to show the younger man what would work best to accentuate his features, a sense of near-panic nearly overtakes the detective.  Cold sweat begins to collect at his lower back and likely his temples as he peers down at the prices for some of the ensembles.   _Christ_ , one of these suits is worth three months of his rent, for God’s sake!  Yeah.  The fashion advice is decent, but completely out of his price range, which is a concept he realizes Lucifer can sometimes forget about.

 

“You know,” he says, having to clear his parched throat first, “I’m actually thinking of maybe going for a more, um, _dressed down_ sort of restaurant.  Maybe a local place or something?  So— so I can probably just raid my closet for something a bit more casual.”

 

“Oh,” the man seated next to him on the couch says, only mildly disappointed. “Well perhaps you’ll want to consult me again when you finally go for that ‘fancy schmancy’ eatery with your new paramour, eh Daniel?  No matter—  I’ll mark some of these for a later date, then.”

 

With a jaw-cracking yawn, the groggy club-owner stretches and stands up to abruptly head back towards his bedroom, catalogs and messily scrawled notes in hand.

 

“Um…”

 

“Alright, Detective Dan, I’m off to bed to catch a few more Z’s.  I don’t get up this early for just anyone, after all.”  He shuffles up the steps, audibly drops the booklets and sheafs of paper to the ground, and flops down onto the shiny, dark duvet. “Feel free to let me know how your little excursion goes.  Now shoo!  Or you’ll be late for work, I’d imagine.”

 

Bewildered, and still frustratingly unsure of what exactly to do about the date with Amenadiel he’s supposed to be planning for tomorrow, Dan catches the time on an ornate wall clock and fairly sprints for the elevator.

 

Maybe he’ll figure something out at work.

 

*

 

Ella, the beam of overenthusiastic sunshine that she is, manages to draw out what the problem is from the detective the minute she spots him, halfway through the morning.

 

“You both’re kind of low maintenance, right?  Like you don’t have super elite palates for, like, molecular dishes or new age gastronomie or whatever?”

 

Dan chuckles.

 

“I… can promise you that I have absolutely no idea what you even just said, so yeah, no need for anything super fancy.  He— uh,  _they_ enjoy trying new things, sometimes, as far as food goes, since they only moved here kind of recently.”

 

With a strained look at the glass windows separating them from the station full of other law enforcement officers, the detective is hyperaware of the slip he just made when he’d gotten a bit _too_ comfortable talking about Amenadiel.  Bless her heart, Ella gets it and winks before grabbing her phone and typing rapidly for several straight seconds, chatting the whole time, as though nothing all too remarkable is happening in her little office space.

 

“Okay, so I am about to send you a few good contenders for impressive-but-not- _too_ -impressive first date dining; check ‘em out and lemme’ know what you think.  My fave’s the very last one—  it’s got some awesome outdoor seating.”

 

Dan’s phone buzzes several times in quick succession as she speaks, and he scrolls through the short list of several eateries, the very last one catching his eye as the forensic specialist talks about it at length.

 

Kind of touched by the gesture and her overall thoughtfulness, he smiles warmly.

 

“Thanks a bunch, Ella.  Really.  I was kind of freaking out a bit about all this, but this place looks great.  Next time you want a non-station coffee, let me know, huh?”

 

The diminutive scientist scoffs and cuffs him in the shoulder, laughing.

 

“Nah, dude!  It’s all good.  Just gimme’ the deets on your mystery guy so I can fangirl over an adorable, happy couple, here, kay?  I mean, if I can’t jump that hot Amenadiel guy’s bones, I’ve gotta get my kicks _somehow_ , right?”

 

Ella worriedly peers up at the frozen detective who had momentarily gone pale and then started flushing an almost worrying shade of pink.

 

“Woah!  Are you okay?  All I did was mention…” she trails off, quietly, before her mouth rounds in surprise.  “No way! Oh my God— _really_?”

 

How the _Hell_ does he get himself into these situations?

 

“Oh man, oh man— I _promise_ I won’t tell anybody, but _wow_.  _Congrats_ , Dan!  What a catch! Ahaha!”

 

The grimacing, blushing detective manages a weak ‘thank you’, and bears a lengthy hug from his coworker before muttering an excuse and scuttling out of the forensics office and back to his desk.  The least he can do is call this _[Salazar](https://www.google.com/search?biw=1368&bih=845&ei=pHYhWriMCOTi_Qb_kLSoCA&q=salazar+los+angeles&oq=salazar+los+angeles&gs_l=psy-ab.3..35i39k1l2j0i67k1j0l6.14628.19325.0.19410.4.4.0.0.0.0.84.320.4.4.0....0...1.1.64.psy-ab..0.3.234....0.UT1uYRRff-I)_  place and see if reservations are necessary while he waits for the heat in face to recede enough for him to brave the bullpen in search of some much-needed caffeine.

 

*

 

Across town, a few hours later, Amenadiel pops into Lucifer’s penthouse, having called ahead to ensure he won’t be involved in the umpteenth case of ‘coitus interruptus’.  (Truthfully, even with prior notification, there’s always a decent chance he’ll show up to a cacophony of carnal sounds that will have him disappearing as quickly as he had arrived.)

 

Thankfully, it is only his brother who greets him, and after a few minutes of shooting the breeze, the elder of the two actually broaches the subject about which he's come to seek advice.

 

“Mm,” Lucifer intones, placing his tumbler on the stone countertop.  “So, you basically want a primer on what all you should plan for during a first date, so far as human standards go.”

 

“Yes— _exactly_.”

 

“Right.  Well that’s easy: just Wine, Dine, and Do.”

 

Amenadiel looks back at Lucifer, perplexed.

 

“I’m sorry, but… do _what_?”

“Why, your date, of course.  I _know_ you’ve done the do, already, Brother!  Heard all the nasty little details about _that_ from little Mazikeen.  Which— congrats on decent beginner’s luck, but you _will_ have to develop some level of expertise, eventually, when the endearing little ‘I’m new at this’ act stops working.”

 

“Wow.  _First_ of all, not one bit of that answered my question about the actual _logistics_ of a first date.  Secondly, I’m pretty sure I _have_ developed some level of ‘expertise’, or so my date has told me, already.”

 

“Ohhh!  Brother dearest, you should have said!  I didn’t know the two of you were already _biblically_ acquainted— how _naughty_ , Amenadiel!  What would Father say about all this pre-marital fun you’ve been having lately?”

 

Long-sufferingly, Amenadiel crosses his arms and sighs, not entirely in the mood to deal with his especially unhelpful sibling, today.

 

“Fine.  I _knew_ I should have gone to Chloe or Linda, first.  Thanks for nothing, as usual, Luci.  I’ll just see myse—”

 

The hand that grasps just above his elbow as he turns to head for the elevator doors is firm, and the tone overlaying the voice behind him seems sincerely apologetic.

 

“Alright, alright.  Sorry!  I’m just— just surprised to see you taking an interest in anything other than naysaying and lurking dourly nearby as I have a grand old time living my best life.  So… where exactly are you two going to be having this dinner of yours?”

 

Amenadiel quirks one side of his mouth up in a pleased sort of expression.

 

“I, uh, I actually don’t know, yet.  We’re both kind of… out of practice at this whole dating thing, so it's still being narrowed down.”

 

“Hm.  Alright, well, I’ll give you a few ideas for different levels of formality, as well as how to add some flair here and there.  Just because you’ve already slept together doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be trying to reel them in and have them _really_ fall head over heels for you, you magnificent bastard.”

 

Lucifer walks ahead of him and makes a turn towards his walk-in closet.

 

“Come on!  We haven’t much time before I have to prepare for a booked event at Lux, tonight, and you still have much to learn.”

 

Amenadiel shakes his head at his mercurial brother and follows his path deeper into the apartment, guided by the voice floating out from the depths of a particularly well-packed wardrobe.

 

“Ooh!  And I can give you some tips and tricks— maybe explain some of my favourite ‘moves’, hm?  You might want to take notes…”

 

* * *

 

All in all, the date goes off without a hitch: the restaurant is amazing (food, seating, service, and all), the pair manages to not veer into overly awkward conversation more than once or twice, and they end the night out by eagerly tumbling back into Amenadiel’s bed for several rounds of enthusiastic, characteristically mind-blowing sex.

 

The real fun begins the next day, though, when Lucifer waltzes into the station and parks himself at the corner of Dan’s desk, as impeccably dressed and rakish as ever, just in time to impede his progress on a backlog of paperwork

 

“And a good morning to you, too, _Detective_ — looks like _someone_ had a successful first date, mm?” he says, leering at the unimpressed-looking younger man.  “That _irrepressible_ smile you’re unsuccessfully attempting to conceal under your usual grimace, that certain twinkle in your eye, and— dare I say it—even a slight change in your gait that I was able to observe, just earlier.”

 

Suddenly self-conscious ( _Jesus_ , was he really _that_ transparent?), the overworked officer finally raises his eyes from his computer monitor after adding the last line to a paragraph in a particularly dry report.  His grey eyes bore warningly into the nightclub owner’s mischievous, dark ones as he leans back into his computer chair.

 

“ _Lucifer_ —” he starts, before being promptly (and predictably) interrupted.

 

“Hm, one could say you have a certain… _glow_ about you.  _Actually_ …”

 

Dan is summarily forced to tilt his head back uncomfortably to create some distance between his face and the other man’s, as the lanky male looms in closer to peer squintily at his features.  What in the _Hell_ is up with this guy?  Yeah, knowing he’s the literal devil, a fallen angel, etc. goes a long way in explaining some of his wilder behavior, but the dude is _still_ an odd duck, to put it lightly.

 

Rolling his eyes, Dan smoothly shifts his chair backward before glancing down at the time via the activity tracker on his wrist and standing up.

 

“Right.  Good talk, man.  I’m gonna go do some follow-up on an old case with Ella.  Seeya’.”

 

The click of the glass door to forensics clicking shut rouses Lucifer from his strange reverie.  He blinks rapidly, trying to puzzle out exactly _what_ it is he thought he’d just seen.

 

“It _can’t_ be.  I must simply be burned out from all this endless, goody two shoes-ing about with the Detective.”

 

Muttering to himself, he visibly shakes himself out of his funk, affecting his typical easygoing attitude as he swaggers out into the throng of law enforcement personnel in search of his usual partner, in spite of the prospect of yet _more_ ‘goody two shoes’-adjacent activity.

 

*

 

Amenadiel receives a text from Daniel at around lunch time, wherein his lover requests that they meet up after his shift for a few drinks and perhaps to jointly plan their next ‘official date’.  Around the same time, he notices that his brother had sent him a text several hours earlier, inquiring about his date the night before.

 

The eldest of all the angels decides to kill two birds with one stone, and texts Daniel about where he will be awaiting his arrival before heading over to Lux to visit his brother in person.  Almost as soon as he seats himself at the bar, he is accosted by a sly-looking Maze, who promptly gives the other bartender a meaningful look that has her scrambling to take on several of the terrifying demon’s incomplete drink orders.

 

She swiftly makes her way out in front of the bar and slides directly into his personal space, seating herself comfortably, leather-clad legs splayed wide on the stool beside his.

 

“So?” she prompts eagerly, tone conspiratorial but still sincerely excited. “Did you guys fuck again, last night?”

 

The mouthful of water he had just swallowed, thankfully, continues in the correct direction down his throat instead of ending up sprayed all over his chin and the dark wood before him, but it’s a close thing.  He keeps his body angled towards the bar, but twists slightly and angles his head to give the demon a reproving look.

 

“You _look_ like you got some, last night, but it’s hard to tell when you make _that_ face at me.  You know the one— it looks just like this.”  The woman pulls her cell phone from Father-Knows-Where and within seconds has its screen tuned toward him, displaying a picture of… his own face?

 

“Mazikeen, exactly what do you want?  I’m here to see Lucifer and relax with Dan, later, for a bit.  And I _know_ that you’re actually rather busy, right now, since you have to prepare for the usual rush of club-goers in only a few hours.  So, care to tell me what you _actually_ came over here to say?”

 

During his brief speech, the surly demon initially takes on an overdramatically bored demeanor, but actually straightens up and even fixes her hyper casual posture a bit before he finishes.  With a sigh, she leans over to rest her elbow on the bar, and then her face on her palm as she speaks plainly, sounding almost petulant.

 

“Ugh— always with the killing of joy, with you two, huh?  Geez.   _Anyway_ , I am to invite both you _and_ your shiny new bedpartner-turned-second crush over to dinner with me and Linda, next week.  Bring yourselves and _only_ yourselves:  I know both of you _suck_ at cooking, and the last thing _either_ of us need is our humans suffering through food poisoning.  Also, if I had to kill Daniel for poisoning my girlfriend, we _both_ know I’d beat you in a fight when you try and defend him.”

 

A _dinner party_ with _Maze_ and Linda?  Who are apparently together?  Amenadiel’s mouth opens and closes several times and his eyebrows can’t decide if they want to furrow in perplexity or raise in surprise.

 

“I— .  We—” he stutters, immediately clearing his throat to try again for something more articulate in response.

The still unfased demon rolls her eyes and flaps her hand at him as she gracefully slides from the barstool and struts back toward the side of the long countertop.

“Yeah, yeah.  You two can get back to us whenever.  For now, heads up: you’ve got an excited-looking little brother headed your way.”

 

Yes.  This less-than-ideal timing seems exactly right.

 

“Ah, Amenadiel!” comes the boisterous shout from a short distance away.

 

Same Lucifer as always— often either unaware or uncaring of his volume when in close proximity to others.

 

When Amenadiel turns around and stands to greet his brother, he finds himself being urgently ushered toward the elevator that will whisk them away towards the top floor penthouse loft.  Forlornly, he turns to glance wistfully at the bowl of barnuts and other miscellaneous snacks: he’s just started to feel rather hungry.

 

*

 

The lanky male before him sinks down into the plush seat across from the one he already occupies, and then stares at him imploringly, eyebrows raised.

 

“Well?” he says, rotating a hand in front of himself in a gesture commonly used to say ‘go on’.

 

With a smile, Amenadiel _does_ go on, pleasantly surprised to see his brother giving him his full attention, seemingly enraptured with his rather mundane tale of his fairly routine date.

 

“And then _I_ ordered the _carne asada_ taco— which is pretty crazy considering that _he_ —”

 

“Had ordered the _pollo asado_ taco, since he typically prefers red meat, and you, chicken.  Yes, yes, I _know_ , brother— you’ve spent the past _ten minutes_ detailing the painfully unremarkable drive you took into Central Los Angeles, during which not even _one_ sex act occurred.

 

 _“Then_ , I had to hear about how interesting you find human dining establishments, and how outdoor seating is a _revelation_ — which, considering your position in the heavenly host, is not a word you should bandy about so lightly.  From there, it’s been a solid five minutes of your shared appetizer— quesadillas, as I remember— and then a breakdown of why each of you ordered what you did for the main course!  It’s _exhausting,_ I tell you!”

 

“Ah, so you _are_ listening, after all!” Amenadiel exclaims, beaming happily.  “I was so sure you had some other angle—”

 

“I mean, for Dad’ sake— _get to the buggering bit, already_!”

 

And there it is. 

 

“ _Wow_ , Lucifer.  Been holding that in for a while?” the older of the two deadpans.

 

“Ugh— I’m _sorry_ , but did you _actually_ even _have_ a date, last night?  Or was it all some clever ruse to get more insight into my highly enviable, playboy lifestyle?  That’s fine, you know— wanting to be like me, I mean.  Still, I feel like all those detailed notes I gave you and the little notebook of diagrams just went to waste, then.”

 

“Ohoho!  Went to waste?  I think _not_ — just take a look at the way this poor guy’s limping.”

 

At the jubilant crowing from the elevator, the bickering siblings turn as one to greet Mazikeen and her resigned-looking guest.

 

“Daniel?” The brothers exclaim in synchrony, one happily, and the other puzzled.

 

At the last second, as the sole human approaches the arrangement of couches, Maze gives him a solid shove, sending him tumbling toward his seated lover, who reacts exactly she had hoped.  Out of instinctual habit, the angel halts time even while acting in real time, directing Dan’s flailing fall so that he ends up dropping comfortably in the corner of the sectional, legs across Amenadiel’s.  (Notably, the time-stop had done nothing to slow the detective’s tumble.)

 

Time reverts to its usual flow outdoors, and the typical disordered white noise of Los Angeles in the early evening quietly filters back into the room.  In the meantime, in the wake of the flurry of action, the police detective pats himself down to check for anything out of place, eventually subsiding with a gusty exhalation.

 

Amenadiel comfortably rests his arms over the muscled legs resting atop his own, soothingly patting one thigh before leaning over and kissing the tempting lips that have since settled into a bemused grin.

 

“Mm— you’re early.  Did you finish your reports ahead of time?”

 

Lucifer, who has sat gaping at the unbelievable tableau in front of him since Maze had fairly thrown the detective at his brother finally closes his mouth and stops looking between the two other men like there is some kind of ongoing tennis game visible only to his eyes.

 

“Okay, first of all— shoes!” He says, gesturing at Detective Espinoza’s black service-grade boots, undoubtedly covered in some of the worst substances available to step in in the greater Los Angeles area.  “And secondly, no.  _No_!  Clearly Maze set up some sort of ill-conceived prank, starting with my aiding the both of you with some ruinously boring outing for dinner, and culminating in me spilling all my dirty, dirty bedroom secrets in a bid to _genuinely_ help out my ailing, sexless older sibling.”

 

The ‘happy couple’ lounging on his couch both look surprised at the vehemence of his diatribe.  And Dad’s sake— the detective is _really_ going all in, here, sprawled halfway in his brother’s lap, as he is.  Must be all those weird improv classes finally paying off.

 

Said couple then looks at each other before chuckling warmly, if disbelievingly, taking no notice as Maze plops herself right down at the very end of the couch, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

 

“Oh man— did _you_ ask Lucifer for help before the date, too? Wow,” Daniel says.

 

“I know, right?  Pretty silly in retrospect, since he really could have told either of us what the other was planning, but it was definitely well worth the risk, hm?” Amenadiel rumbles, raising one brow and giving Dan a look that has him flushing, pleasedly.

 

“Okay, see!  That’s it right there,” Lucifer exclaims, pointing in their general direction, almost hitting a hysterical level.  “That’s— you both _can’t_ have… _can’t_ be—”

 

The devil sits back for a moment and glances to the side for a moment, furrowing his brows for a split second as he recalls something from earlier that day.  He turns eyes wide with sudden comprehension to the young man ensconced in the plush corner of his couch.

 

“You— this morning, at the police station, you _were_ literally glowing!  I thought I was imagining it, but no…  that means. That means— you two are actually,” he swallows dryly, almost whispering the last word, “ _dating_.”

 

“Oh hell yeah, they are!” Maze exclaims, merrily munching away at a bowl of popcorn she had produced from who-knows-where several minutes earlier.

 

“Brother,” Amenadiel starts, soothingly, only for Lucifer’s dramatic epiphanic soliloquy to continue.

 

“Ugh!  That means you’re using all my number one hits on _Detective Dan_ , then!  Oh my _Dad_ —  I told you about ‘Gentlemen… Start Your Engines’!” he moans, lost to his suffering.

 

“Mm,” Maze muses, digging around for a more buttery kernel, “I’ve always liked that one.”

 

The detective’s head whips to turn to his lover.

 

“Woah!  Wait— he _told_ you about that?  Because that one can drop right off of that list you’re keeping: I am _not_ into heavy machinery in bed, thanks.”

 

“I’m not sure _I_ was really very ‘into’ that one, myself, Daniel, but your protest has been noted.  We’ll skip tha—”

 

“Ah ah ah!”  Lucifer says, waving around one finger like some rogue schoolteacher.  “What we are _not_ going to do is give the Devil an _anti_ boner, right now, thank you!  Whew.  Just… give me a—  I need a minute and a stiff drink to process this all.  Maze, if you would?”

 

The demon, who has been having a phenomenal night, thus far, is only too pleased to trek across the room and pour a few fingers of something strong for her boss, soon handing it off to him with a sympathetic grin and a pat on the shoulder.

 

“Alright!”  The Devil says, having downed what had looked like half a glass of scotch in one fell swoop.  “M’ brain’s all caught up, I think.  This is— a bit of a doozy, to be honest; comes out of left field, and all that.  How in the Hell did _you two_ of all people end up going steady, much less bumping uglies in the first place, though?”

 

Both Dan and Amenadiel finally adopt a mildly uncomfortable look as they think back to the night of their initial one-night stand, or rather, to its official witness and story keeper, who immediately pipes up.

 

“Yes!  I’ve been _waiting_ for this!” she says, scooting forward to the edge of her seat, dropping the half-empty popcorn bowl onto the highly glossed coffee table and causing every other person in the room to wince or cringe at the action.

 

She rubs her hands together briefly and clears her throat.

 

“Okay, so it all starts at this dive bar down the road from Dan’s improv class— you know the one.  The _middle_ part has that thing with your tongue— yeah, the one you taught me, but _I_ taught it to _Amenadiel_ a while ago, and then the end— which is _my_ personal favourite part— looks a little bit like that movie, _The Hangover_.”

 

“Ah,” Lucifer says, sitting forward, dark eyes aglitter as he clearly reads dread from Daniel and takes in the wry look on his brother’s face.  “Is _that_ why you’ve been referring to our favourite little buttoned-up detective as ‘Hangover’ for the last little while, then?”

 

With a smirk, Lucifer snags the bowl of popcorn for himself and settles back into the soft cushions at his back, gesturing for his demonic companion to continue.

 

“Well?” he purrs.  “Do tell, Mazikeen.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Aw man-- how in the _hell_ have I not included Chloe or Trixie in this verse, yet?? Like, I'm holding off on Charlotte for plot reasons, but I just kind of suck and haven't had Dan's ex and kid show up in person. Definitely gotta fix that, soon. Haha
> 
> Also? It's my first time writing Lucifer or Ella, so I hope I did alright. (And nupe-- this has been neither britpicked nor beta'd on the whole, as per usual. Soz!)  
> *
> 
> Come check out [my writing blog](https://dovahdoeswrite.tumblr.com/), where i post early fic snippets and keep you updated on what i'm working on in what fandoms!
> 
>    
> Kudos and comments are love: feel free to leave me some, kind readers~. (ღˇ◡ˇ)~♥


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